MiG Ace
by DeviantWriter2015
Summary: Lt. Zoya is a seasoned veteran of the Soviet Air Force. For her esteemed service, she has been given a great honor: the latest advancement in air warfare.


MiG Ace

AN: The term "MiG" in real life is broad. It's not just a line of certain planes. It's the entire work of a Soviet/Russian aerospace company that's been around since the '30s. In Red Alert, the MiG looks like a 29 in the cutscenes, the well known "Fulcrum." The in game sprites are supposedly a 23 or 27. The NATO reporting name for both was "Flogger." The MiG-23 was a fighter-bomber or interceptor depending on the model. The 27 is a dedicated ground attack. Since the MiGs in RA1 and OpenRA can only target ground units, and the 27 is just old enough for me to count it as "Cold War" (1970), our commie pilots get the 27.

The squadron names from various squads in the Ace Combat series. With the exception of "Gorsov," the location names are from Papers, Please.

The one-shot here basically "Overseer" from the Soviet campaign of RA1. In case you're wondering: no, I'm not writing shit about 2 or 3.

August 19, 1952

[1]

The NKVD agent dropped a sheet of paper. "Fuck."

"11." Wezlow said.

He stooped to pick it up, put it back into his extremely thick stack of documents.

"It's imperative that the convoy make it through to Gorsov." Igor said.

Because this base was essentially right on top of the enemies, Igor had been given a flak jacket and a helmet instead of the usual secret police uniform. It didn't do much to make him any less nervous. He was as skittish as a drowned rat, constantly dropping papers. Which meant the four members of Gryphus squadron had to pause, and stare awkwardly at him as he awkwardly tried to pick up the piece of paper from the smooth and flat floor.

Igor dropped a sheet. "Fuck."

"12." Welzow said. Behind him, Parchim snickered.

"May I ask what types of supplies those trucks are carrying?" Lt. Zoya asked. The Ukrainian squadron leader was only 23 years old. The rest of the squad was even younger than that. Advancement in the Soviet Union could be rapid, after all.

"No, you may not." Igor answered, finally picking the paper up. Most NKVD would say that sentence with a good amount of smug superiority. Not Igor. He was almost apologetic.

"Just know that they are extremely important." he dropped another piece of paper. "Fuck."

"13." Wezlow said. He and Parchim both laughed until Finow elbowed one of them. "Ouch."

This time, Zoya got the paper for him.

"Thanks, lieutenant."

"Points of interest?"

"The Kolechia River just a hundred miles south of here." Igor stated. "Rot Team did a couple flyovers of it with their Yaks. The Allied pigs had a naval yard up and running. There were just a few gunboats prowling around at first. Then—"

Zoya winced. "Destroyers?"

"I'm afraid so." Igor said.

"How many?"

"Two, that we know of." Igor said sadly. "Rot Team went right into their range of fire. Only Rot 4 made it back."

"Allied dogs." Zoya muttered.

They made a few more steps, and then another paper slipped to the ground.

"14." Wezlow said. "14 papers dropped."

Zoya spun around. "Shut up."

The slightly tubby man with the smart mouth, did a crisp salute. "Yes, ma'am!"

The petite girl, Finow, elbowed him again.

"Ouch."

Parchim laughed.

Igor said: "Please, people. This is serious business."

"How serious, Igor?" Zoya asked.

"Summary executions for failure." Igor said with a horrible grimace that was almost a smile. "That kind of serious."

The squadmates stopped laughing and joking. They stared at Igor.

"You can't be serious." Finow said quietly.

"I can't be?" Igor asked. Now he _was _smiling and it was awful. It was like watching a snake trying to grin. "All right then. Do your jobs and you won't have to find out."

The squad was silent.  
"Is it just us out there?" Zoya asked.

Igor shook his head. "Galm Team just got transferred in."

"So there's eight of us total." Zoya said.

"Indeed."

"The guns of our Yaks won't punch through those destroyers." Zoya said. "At least not before they punch through us."

"You aren't getting the Yak-9s." Igor said. He flipped through his stack of papers. "I see you all completed your VR training for the MiG-27; correct?"

Zoya raised an eyebrow. She back at her crew. Parchim looked excited but Wezlow and Finow looked confused.

"That's correct," Zoya said. "But I thought those were still in beta."

"Not anymore." Igor pulled out a document from the stack. "Gryphus Squadron has been assigned the MiG-27 ground attack aircraft. Four of such aircraft have been procured for the East West Timor forward base."

"Awesome!" Finow shouted.

"Yes, the glorious Union, She provides generously." Igor said...somewhat dryly. "We have four 27s, so all of Gryphus Squadron will be using them."

"Nice." Zoya said.

"You will also be supported by Galm squadron." Igor said. "They will be using Yaks-9s."

He flipped up another piece of paper, not dropping it for once. "Our base in East Timor have TU-16s on standby."

"Bombers?" Zoya asked.

"VDV troops." Igor corrected. "We want them to deploy across the river, but they can't do that with those damn destroyers prowling around the river. Your mission: eliminate the Allied destroyers. Then destroy their naval yard, so that we don't have any more surprises. When the river is clear, root out any pockets of Allied armor from across the river. Galm squadron and their Yaks can help with the infantry, but there's a lot of tree cover. Don't overextend yourself. Allow the VDV to clear out infantry from the forest."

[2]

Zoya climbed the stairs to the MiG-27. It had a funny shape, she thought. The nose was pointy, like her mothers, and overall shape of the fuselage was flat and thin. It seemed like a fighter or an interceptor, as opposed to a ground-attack aircraft. But she didn't know shit about designing planes. She just flew them.

She hopped into the cockpit and closed the canopy. She checked fuel. Green. The radio. Green. The Shipunov rotary cannon. Green, but ammunition was limited, at 50 rounds. The S-5 unguided rockets. Green, and the plane had 15 to spare. The Kh-23 _Grom _air-to-surface missiles. Green, 10 of those. Flares. Green, but only 5 of them.

The base captain said: "Gryphus-1, this is Dragonfly. Status?"

"All green."

"Affirmative. Standby."

"Acknowledged."

"Gryphus-1, you have the sky."

"Copy that. Red skies."

They blasted off.

[3]

They couldn't spend too much time talking. The target was only 400 miles away and closing. The snowy country side rolled under them. According to intel, it was -20 C. Quite warm for winter in this part of the world. It was snowing but not much. Their visibility would be mostly fine. The same went for their enemies.

They were moving fast. It seemed these MiGs were twice as fast as the Yaks. They were truly the next definition of aerial warfare. How could the Allies stop them with this?

_Don't be too cocky._

Yeah, that was the ticket. No matter how fast they flew, a plane was still a plane. By definition, they would almost never be as heavily armored as a tank. She new from the VR simulations that the MiG could take a direct hit from the Redeyes that the Allied infantry used. Maybe two, but probably not three.

They also had to be careful of aces. The Allies preferred helicopters to planes. That was no surprise by this point. What _was _a surprise was that the Cobras they'd been using, with their cannons and autocannons, were starting to shoot down more and more Soviet aircraft. TU-16 heavy bombers were the most threatened, thanks to their slow speed. Yaks weren't always safe either. Two weeks ago, in Lich, Schnee Squadron had been almost completely destroyed by a two squads of Allied Cobras.

Zoya pressed the comms. "This is Gryphus-1. Squad, check in."

"Gryphus-2, reporting in." Finow said.

"Gryphus-3, I'm starving."

"Shut up, Wezlow." Zoya said. She wasn't in the mood for it right now.

"Gryphus-4." Parchim said. "I'm fine."

Behind them, Galm squadron piped up. "Gryphus-1, this is Galm-1. All present and accounted for."

Galm Squad numbered at five units. Zoya didn't know any of them, even by name.

Zoya said: "We'll keep it close, in groups of two. Parchim, you talk the least, so you're with me."

"Love you too, boss." Wezlow said.

"Shut up, Wezlow. Galm Squad, pick off any gunboats you see. Try to keep clear of destroyers. Gryphus will handle those."

[4]

The Kolechia River was a surprise.

She had expected maybe a handle of Alllied gunboats. No more than ten or so.

The river was _smothered _with Allied gunboats. There were at least 20.

They began opening fire with their bow guns. They weren't designed for AA use, but they could elevate high enough for the job, and it was better than nothing at all.

"Everyone, spread out and pick them off!" Zoya said.

She fired three rockets. The first and third rockets hit nothing but water. The second struck a gunboat and it was immediately disabled. The sailors on board immediately jumped into the water.

To its right, another gunboat was struck with a _Grom _missile was detonated, giving the capitalists no chance to abandon ship.

The planes scattered.

Zoya crossed the river, thought she spied movement in the trees, and got her confirmation just before she started to bank, when an AA missile came out from under the trees. No "missile lock" warning, which meant it was a heatseeker, probably a Redeye fired from some pour shitheap out there with nothing but a padded jacket.

And Zoya wondered: Was the guy French? Spanish? German? Greek? What? It didn't matter.

She dropped the flares, and it was the usual tense three or four seconds of wondering if the heatseeker was diverted. Then more time passed, and it seemed like it was so. She went back to the river, where the gunboats were continuing to do a relatively shitty job of engaging the Soviet Air Force.

Zoya responded with another burst of the unguided rockets, destroying yet another one.

It was a turkey shoot. It was a massacre. The bow guns of the small patrol craft weren't flak guns and they weren't heatseekers and they simply couldn't effectively target the planes.

So she flew low, knowing it was a bad idea even with the inaccurate rounds being sent her way. She spared one surface to ground missile, destroying another gunboat. She laughed when she saw flaming bodies ragdolling all over the place.

She flew north, banked around, did a quick count. The Allied units in the river had lost half their numbers.

The closest they came to actually damaging Zoya was a ricochet off the starboard wing, and she wasn't even sure that actually did anything.

The closest they came to actually killing someone was Galm-3, also struck in the starboard wing of his more fragile Yak.

"Fuck! Losing altitude!" Galm-3 cried. "Returning to base!"

He turned around and headed back.

Meanwhile, Zoya had destroyed three gunboats but was fresh out of rockets. That left her with the cannon and the _Groms. _She wanted to save the latter for the destroyers. But the damn things weren't in sight yet.

At least, not until Wezlow shouted over the radio.

[5]

"Destroyers! Coming in from the south!"

"What?" Zoya said. She was currently heading north, but just starting to bank around.

She saw Wezlow far down the riving, coming towards her. On his flank was a member of Galm Squadron, 5.

Behind them was a Type 24 "Saber." It was a British destroyer-type and had become the backbone of the Allied navy. As Zoya watched, a missile came out of some hidden compartment.

Zoya almost reflexively deployed her flares, forgetting that she was too far away. She pulled her hand back at the last second.

Wezlow's MiG was fast but not fast enough; but he deployed his flares. The Galm-5's Yak was even slower; he had no flares to deploy at all.

The AA missile hit the Yak in the tail. Everything aft of the cockpit exploded. The cockpit itself caught on fire. Then it pitched forward into the Kolechia River.

"How?" Zoya whispered. "The river down there is a straight line. There are no bends. There was nothing for them to hide behind. How did they sneak up on us?"

She wouldn't get her answer for another year and a half, when she saw a gap generator for the first time.

"Gryphus-1, this is 2." Finow said. "Out of rounds. Heading back to base."

"This is 4." Parchim said. "I'm out too."

"Roger that." Zoya said. "All squads retreat back to base. We need to regroup and rearm."

[6]

Her stomach dropped into her groin; her heart rose into our throat.

"I won't do it." she said into the radio.

"You will." Igor said. "Remember what I said before."

"But..."

"The convoy must make it across the river!" Igor shouted. "That's what I told you before. That hasn't changed!"

"These pilots serve our country diligently." Zoya said. "They—

"Are expendable." Igor said. "As are you. As am I."

"Then why don't you go and do it, Igor!" Zoya screamed into the radio. It was dangerous what she was doing, talking to a member of the NKVD in this manner. Potentially lethal. It didn't matter that she knew Igor for years. All he had to do was make a call, and Zoya would never see the light of day again.

Instead, Igor laughed. "Great idea, lieutenant. Let me just climb into a Yak-9 right now and fly it around with all these piloting skills and flight clearance I _don't_ have. I'm sure my family would appreciate going to the gulags with me!"

Zoya leaned back, putting her hands on her head.

Her parents waged war inside her head.

_This isn't right. You know this isn't right, Zoya._

_ Communism must win over capitalism. _That_ is what is right!_

_ They are people. Men and women with families no different from yours._

_ If it's necessary to realize Stalin's dream, then it must be done. The proletariat have families too. That never stopped the capitalists, did it?_

And so on and so on. A cynical journalist by nature, her father had always been wary of Stalin.

Her mother vehemently supported the man. Everything he had done, she argued, was for the betterment of mankind. The Officer Purge had been necessary. They were of the Old Way, the bourgeois way. Stalin had to replace them with loyal officers who wanted to see his Dream come true. The Great Famine was a painful but necessary side-effect of transforming Russia from a country of simple farmers and Cossacks to the industrial powerhouse that it was now.

And what did they have to show for their views? Lybid, her mother, was an important councilmember of Kiev, Ukraine's capital. She had tirelessly supported Zoya's academic schooling, her enlistment in the Soviet Air Force.

Her father was gone, having died in an asylum, babbling like a lunatic.

And as Zoya sat in the cockpit, hearing their voices ebb and flow, it was her mother's that grew louder, proud and confident; while her father's voice became feeble and pathetic.

"We have to realize Stalin's dream." she said.

_Yes, exactly!_

"He was the reason I made it this far." Zoya said to nobody. "He was the one who wanted more women fighting in the military. The capitalist pigs think their God considers us inferior to men."

_Then you know what you have to do!_

Zoya sighed, and clicked on the radio to give the squad their orders.

[7]

On the way in, they had Galm-1 check to see if any additional destroyers were in the river. There was. That raised the total to two, which meant this was possible. It helped that the second destroyer was still far up the river.

They had nearly reached the river. The MiGs had to pull back on their speed, to keep from overtaking the slower Yaks. They were coming in from up high. They were going to dive bomb them.

"Galm squad, open up on those destroyers. Get their attention."

Funny, how big the lump was in her throat.

"Roger that, Gryphus-1." Galm-1 said. It sounded like he was happy. It also sounded like he was crying.

In front of her, Galm squad began to line up, heading to their certain deaths. 1, the squad leader, was last in line.

"Comrades!" Galm-2 shouted. "For the Motherland."

They opened up with their ShVAK autocannons. A few of the shots went wide, but most rounds struck home, putting dents in the destroyer.

The Saber responded with the same measures as before, a double-door compartment opened up on the bow of the ship. It was known as a vertical launching system (VLS). An anti-air missile shot vertically up for ten meters and then raced towards them. Then a second. And then a third.

Galm Squad, didn't budge. They didn't move.

Galm-2 took a direct hit and completely exploded.

The same thing happened to Galm-3.

Galm-4 did the most damage. Somehow, the missile meant for him just didn't _hit_. It missed him by inches. The Yak raced toward the Saber, lighting the bitch up. He was 400 meters away. Now 300.

Zoya's heart sank. _He's going to ram them._

He was close enough and flying straight enough that the autocannon aft of the VLS started firing.

A dozen armor-piercing rounds cut through 4's Yak. As in _all _the way through, holes appearing on the backside of the Yak as if by magic. The blood covered the inside of the cockpit

But the Yak was already on a crash course with the destroyer. Whoever was manning the autocannon was either slow on the uptake or a complete fucking idiot. There was a pause. Then panicked fire from the autocannon turret, but it was too little and much too late.

Galm-4 slammed into the bow of the ship like a freight train.

A missile struck Galm-1 in the wing. He was immediately knocked into a spin.

"Galm-1! Bail out!" Zoya screamed. "Bail—

Then the fire covered the cockpit and she didn't see the point anymore.

Now it was Gryphus' turn.

And they were already well in range, and were already engaging by the time Galm Leader died. Each one of them fired half of their _Grom _missiles at the Saber. The Saber replied by dispensing a strange cloud of particles off the right side.

"The fuck is that?" Wezlow cried.

Whatever it was, it was fucking up their missiles. Five of them went off in completely random directions.

But the rest struck the target directly and exploded. The entire half of the visible deck was a wall of fire.

There wasn't much AA fire as they went overhead.

They banked around. The Saber was motionless in the water and on fire. Sailors were bailing out by the dozens. Gryphus Squad ignored them, leaving them to the frigid waters, and fired the rest of their missiles at the immobilized destroyer.

There was an explosion. A slight pause. Then a deeper, throatier explosion as something important combusted. The destroyer hitched up a little in the water, its two separate halves bending away from each other.

Within 30 seconds, the thing was underwater.

"One more to go." Zoya said.

[8]

They rearmed and refueled back at base. Then they were back to the river. The second Saber, having seen what happened to the first, was trying to run for it, heading north up the river.

"We're going to kill them." Zoya said. She could feel her heartbeat in her brain.

She waited for an argument, especially from Wezlow.

But it was Parchim who spoke up. "Boss, you sure?"

"Yes."

"We could be heading into a trap." Finow said.

"We aren't." Zoya said. Even if they were, she wouldn't care. They would pay. They would _all _pay.

"We don't have anyone to act as decoys." Parchim argued.

"We've got flares."

"It won't help us if their autocannons hit us."

"I said we're going to attack it and that's a FUCKING ORDER!" Zoya shrieked, spitting all over her mask.

Silence from Finow and Parchim.

"Got anything smart to say, Wezlow?!" Zoya shouted, hating herself for it. This happened sometimes.

After a short silence. "No, boss. Let's kill them all."

[9]

They approached the target, flying low this time, hoping to avoid drawing fire from too many angles of the ship. Allied destroyers were like Mammoth super-heavy tanks; there was no completely safe way to engage them. Because the western side of the river wasn't at all safe, and they had no idea what was north of the river, Gryphus squad could only engage the destroyer from the south and east.

They began with _Grom _missiles, this time only firing one missile each. The Saber deployed chaff, and the gambit Zoya had been hoping for paid off.

The crew on board were either panicked or stupid (probably both). Whatever those missile-diverting particles were, they deployed too much at once. An entire curtain, for only a few missiles.

"Fucking idiots." Zoya grunted. "Squad, wait for that decoy system to fade. Then give it everything you have!"

But the MiGs were so fast, each of them passed it in the meantime. Zoya and Wezlow went north, Parchim and Finow went west.

They banked around, Finow dropping flares to dodge a wayward Redeye from the forest.

Zoya didn't spy any targets to the north, but she still didn't want to go too far that way.

They went back at the destroyer, each firing a missile. This time, no countermeasures were deployed, and they all hit. There was sporadic fire from the autocannon. All the shots missed.

Then they gave it everything they had.

[10]

The destroyer sank to the bottom of the vast river. The soldiers who managed to bail out were dumped into frigid water.

"Should we shoot them?" Finow asked.

"Fuck no." Zoya spat. "Let them freeze. Fucking Allied trash."

As she watched, the swimming crewmembers succumbed to the near-freezing waters, and sank to the riverbed with their pathetic ship.

Gryphus Squad headed back to base, to rearm and refuel for the assault on the western side of the river.

The next time they flew over the Kolechia River, Badger transport plans carrying airborne troops were behind them.

[11]

They would never know what was in the convoy they had successful protected.

They would be given extra rations while the rest of the Soviet Armed Forces began to starve and desert.

They would each given the military award "Hero of the Soviet Union."

They would be given military praise by Stalin himself.

They would meet Stalin in person.

They would come close to destroying a Chinook carrying a deadly Russian-German commando.

They would all survive until the close of the war, when Apache Longbows flown by Talisman and Deadly shot them all down.


End file.
